


Sonny Boy Williamson II Tribute

by hazelandglasz



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Boys Kissing, Clubbing, Dancing, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, M/M, Pickpockets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 23:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5224394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>thehairgel prompted : "Pickpocket!Blaine is kind of cool? I read the sentence “I’m kissing you as a distraction while I’m stealing your wallet” and if Blaine (or Kurt or Sebastian I’m not too picky) could do that, that’d be cool"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonny Boy Williamson II Tribute

At first, Blaine practices his nimbleness as a craft to play a part in “Oliver Twist”, because actually being able to act like a pickpocket can’t hurt, can it?

But as he gets better, as he can see that it becomes easier to just lift wallets and even watches from the mannequin he equipped with bells, Blaine starts getting a …

Rush, of adrenaline, whenever he manages to lift whatever he wants from the mannequin without disturbing the smallest of bells.

He doesn’t even get chosen for the part--something about him looking too honest to pass for a street smart criminal, whatever that means--but Blaine keeps on doing it.

With his friends, at first, and it’s always fun to let them stew in their frustration and fear for a little while before acting like they dropped whatever Blaine lifted from their pockets and he just happened to find it.

“Oh thank God!”

Blaine usually just smiles, like it’s no big deal and he’s just happy to help a friend.

But it’s odd, those rushes of adrenaline--it’s like they become addictive.

It’s not like Blaine feels bad if he doesn’t lift something from someone’s pocket, but he does feel better when he does, if that makes any sense.

For a while, Blaine does it in the subway.

He’s always careful to target people that deserve it, in a way--people who didn’t stand up and leave their seat for an elderly person or a pregnant woman, people who speak extra loud in their phone just because they can …

Lovely phone case, by the way, Blaine loves having it.

And the homeless person he gave the phone to seemed to appreciate it too.

In a way, Blaine feels like a nimble-fingered superhero, avenging good taste and proper manners in his own, quiet way.

A cross between Batman and Robin Hood, in a way.

Which makes him a sort of Han Solo, and honestly, there are worst characters to compare himself to.

Blaine is careful, and so far he has not been caught.

Until he met his match, that is.

\---

Kurt loves going to [Barcelona](http://www.barcelonabarnyc.com/index.html).

For one, it allows him to bask in his guilty pleasure of nerdiness, since the club is an ode to everything geeky and nerdy, and basically everything Kurt cannot express if he wants to be taken seriously by his friends and colleagues.

For two, the cocktails--on fire or not--are absolutely delicious.

And for three, despite attracting a crowd of nerds, Kurt has never failed to find a proper partner to dance with, be it on the dancefloor or in his bed.

Speaking of which, there is a cutie that is dancing by himself on the floor, arms lifted above his head--which only serves to attract everybody’s eyes on his waist and ass--and shaking the aforementioned ass in a sort of twerk that is simultaneously cute and sexy as Hell.

Target acquired then.

Kurt wastes no time to cross the floor, glaring at those who try to keep him for themselves--as if--and snarling at those who try to stop him from reaching the adorable cutie.

Soon enough, though, he is standing behind him, close enough to have to avoid one flailing hand, but he lets it brush his shoulder.

It’s as good an introduction as any, isn’t it.

“Oh sorry,” the cutie says when he turns to face Kurt, and God almighty, those eyes are weapons of mass destruction.

_And those lips._

Kurt definitely picked well.

“It’s alright,” he says with a soft smile, “as long as you dance with me?”

Cutie beams at him and nods, taking the one step that still kept them apart.

_Oh, this is delicious._

Kurt puts his arms over the man’s shoulders--perfect height, too. No, really, Kurt picked him well--and follows his lead, hips rolling and twisting as they dance.

A small smirk tugs at his lips as the man puts his hands on Kurt’s waist, one hand slowly sliding lower and lower and--

_Easy rider._

Kurt reaches to tap on the man’s wrist, a clear warning that as much as he appreciates it, it’s a bit soon to be groping his ass, isn’t it.

Cutie McTightAss gets the message, and his hands--large and warm and elegant, no really, Kurt pats himself on the back on that one--are back on Kurt’s waist, pulling him closer until their chests are pressed together.

The music changes, the dancers around them move closer and away, but Kurt can’t look away, can’t move away.

He moves his arms and hands too, the more they dance together--one hand remains on Cutie’s shoulder, but the other travels.

Gripping his waist, and God it’s so tiny and soft.

On the small of his back when the music slows down, and for a moment, Kurt closes his eyes and lets himself believe that his cutie is not a passing partner--that this is actually “real” and that someone is touching him lovingly and--

_Again_?

The little shit is still edging for the curve of Kurt’s ass, but this time, Kurt leans his temple against the side of Cutie’s head and lets him be.

The grip on his ass is firm, and confident, and it’s actually the way Kurt likes to be handled, nice and it could be the perf--

_Hold the phone._

Is he digging in Kurt’s pocket?

At first, Kurt frowns and simply arches his back to offer more of his ass to his partner’s touch--after all, maybe he simply wants more, and his pants, while tight, can prove to be one too many layer.

But then he can feel the fingers slowly but surely moving away from his actual ass and groping around the pocket.

_Oh hell no_.

“What are--,” he starts asking, but the cutie cuts him off with his lips, and nothing matters much once Kurt gets into it.

It’s soft and tender and also scorchingly hot, and there is one hand brushing his cheek, as if the man is not sure if he’s allowed to touch Kurt’s face--funny, he didn’t seem to have those qualms with his ass--and when Kurt tilts his head and parts his lips, oh this is heavenly.

Cutie moves with him, his tongue so gentle as it brushes against Kurt’s, against the roof of his mouth--oh wow, it’s sending thrills and sparks down to his toes.

The hand in his back pocket has stopped moving, only pressing down to bring them together, and Kurt loses himself in that kiss, his arms crossed around Cutie’s neck to deepen it even more.

They both pull away, slightly breathless and with shiny lips, and they exchange a smile--it’s almost shy, and adorable, and Kurt can see himself falling head first, no second thoughts, for that man.

Who just takes off and disappears in the crowd, what the Hell.

Kurt starts walking through the crowd, trying to catch up with his Cinderella (Cinderello? Whatever) but the man is small enough that the crowd hides him from Kurt’s eyes.

Kurt stops and sighs, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes are still scanning through the crowd and the lights and the smoke effects, but he’s getting resigned to the loss of his Cutie.

He’s not crazy, is he, the guy was definitely interested, and that kiss, and the way he kneaded Kurt’s ass with gusto just before--

Kurt frowns, his hand reaching for his back pocket.

And proceeds to close his eyes, a double resignation now weighing him down.

Not only did he lose a potential cute partner (and maybe more, okay, a boy can dream), but he also lost his “club wallet”.

Thank God he thought of taking it and not his usual wallet--that means that he only lost 35 bucks and his fake ID.

Not that he needs it, but he had a feeling that it might get lost--you never know what can happen in a club, right.

Exhibit A.

Still, it was a cute wallet, and a cute guy--double loss of cuteness.

“Excuse me?”

Kurt sighs and turns to see who dared disturb his internal lamentation.

“ _You_!” he whisper-shouts when he finds no other than the Cutie himself. “You have some nerve,” he growls, grabbing the guy’s arm to pull him away from the crowd and the music. “What, did you forget something? Want my tie? My shoes?”

“Your phone.”

“My _phone_?!” Kurt is so close to just resort to violence that he takes a step back.

“Your phone number, I mean,” Cutie adds, holding Kurt’s wallet to him. “I’m sorry about this, it was just very tempting.”

Kurt snatches his wallet, and openly checks the content of it. His money and ID are there, plus a little piece of paper folded.

From what’s unfolded, Kurt can see that it’s a phone number and a scribbled name (something ending in -ine).

“Cute,” he deadpans. “What makes you think that I would ever want to call you, or agree on a date, after you pulled something like that?”

“Let me buy you a drink first,” Cutie says, reaching for Kurt’s free and empty hand. “And then let me use my one good argument.”

“Argument first,” Kurt says, taking his hand out of Cutie’s touch to cross his arms over his chest because really, all he wants is to take that hand and never let go nor look back.

Cutie steps closer. “Can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to see what other tricks I can do with those?” he asks slowly, wiggling his fingers.

_Damn_.

Oh, Kurt is so gone already it’s not even funny.

“Cocktail, now,” he manages to reply without choking on air, and when Cutie turns to open the way towards the bar, Kurt lets himself enjoy the view.

There is something about falling for a bad guy …

Besides, the guy returned his wallet didn’t he?

\---

Blaine and Kurt end up getting kicked out of the club around 6am, and they keep talking as they walk in the light of the rising Sun.

Blaine explained everything, how he started pickpocketing for fun, and the whole rush, and Kurt--either because Blaine argued well or because the cocktails were heavily dosed--seemed to forgive him.

“... But I would never, ever, try to steal from you again,” he adds when they reach a corner. “You’ve got to believe me.”

Kurt turns to look at him and a new blush spreads on his cheeks and turns the tip of his ears dusky pink.

Blaine smiles at him and reaches for his arm. “What? What did I say?”

Kurt looks away and sticks his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“Kurt! Come on!” Blaine says, walking faster to keep up with him--and God help him, he’s a hopeless romantic, but he could try to keep up with this man for the rest of his life. “Did I say something shocking?”

“No,” Kurt says, a small, depreciating smile on his lips, “it’s something I thought that is just ridiculous.”

“What is it?”

“Ha ha, no.”

“Kuuurt,” Blaine coos, moving in front of Kurt and walking backwards to force him to look at him. “Come on, tell me, I promise you I won’t think it’s ridiculous.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, showcasing his personal doubt on that.

“At least I won’t say that it’s ridiculous, I promise.”

This time, Kurt’s smile widen into a smirk. “What is the value of a thief’s word?” he asks Blaine, voice teasing.

“There is an honor among thieves,” Blaine replies, making a grand gesture of putting his hand over his heart.

Kurt laughs, head bowed down towards his chest.

“Come ooooon.”

Kurt’s shoulders shake with his laughter. “Fine, fine, jeez, put those away,” he says, waving his hands in front of Blaine’s eyes. “I was just thinking that it was too late.”

“What is?”

“You already--oh God this is ridiculous.”

Blaine smiles and steps closer to Kurt. “I already … what?”

“You already stole something else from me.”

Blaine’s eyes widen and he cocks his head to the side. “What did I _umph_.”

Kurt cuts him off with a short kiss that takes Blaine’s breath away. “You already stole my heart, you idiot.”

“Oh,” Blaine says in one breath, before reaching for Kurt’s cheeks and pulling him into another kiss. “Let me give you mine as a trade,” he whispers between two kisses.

“Not so ridiculous then,” Kurt comments when they decide that kissing in the middle of the street is probably not the best idea, even at 6am.

“Not so ridiculous at all.”


End file.
